I Won't Give Up
by Ningannel
Summary: When Loki is forced to meet with a Princess from Alfheimr to try and arrange a marriage, he ends up falling in love with her overshadowed sister instead. Hilarity, fluff, mush, magic, babies, and death will ensue. LokixOC, ThorxSif Rated for cursing, a little sexy, and lots of Loki being Loki.
1. When I Look Into Your Eyes

Darling readers, please bear with me while I explain a few things about this story for you. Trust me, you really need to read this. I mean it. Otherwise I'll be getting lots of mail about "OMG THAT'S NOT CANNON YOU STUPID BITCH DON'T YOU READ YOUR HISTORY BOOKS" kind of bullshit that just makes me mad.

Anyway, yes I realize that Loki has had many wives, and many children, and that everyone loves Sigyn, but hear me out. What I've done is not only given the children the shape shifting powers of their dad, but also made them certain ages based on when he had them. Par exemple, Fenir is a teenager, just behind him a few "years" is Jorry, followed by Hela, and then Sleipnir is youngest.

Also, I've added a few pictures to a photobucket account, created with the use of an InkScribble game from DollDivine, that are how the female character's look. Seriously, this game is so cool. Totally fits the vibe I wanted to create. That link is in my profile, and it will have all the up-to-date characters and clothing changes that you may need.

So please, enjoy this story, and go easy on me for the first few chapters, I haven't written anything in a few mothes and I'm a little rusty.

AHEM! Disclaimer: I own nothing, and if I did, Loki would be horny as fuck all the time and Tony Stark would be his little ass-slave.

* * *

Loki was furious. Green magic spilled from his fingers like acid, pooling on the floor momentarily before disappearing. How _dare_ his parents send for some Elvin princess to try and court him! He paced his room, hands clenching and unclenching stiffly by his sides. His mind reeled at the thought of having to be cordial to this stuck-up, spoiled, and probably magically inept woman for more than a few moments. Stopping in the middle of his room, he took a deep breath, eyes fluttering closed as he forced himself to relax. He was a _God_, and by Odin's beard, he _would not_ marry some high and mighty Princess.

Scooping up some of the spell books he's been reading from his desk, he marched out of his room, Hel bent on spending the rest of the day hiding in the depths of the archives with his son Jormungandr, who was known to shrink down to his "normal teenager size" when his father joined him in his sanctuary.

* * *

The journey from Alfheimr was normally a tolerable one, with the bifrost cutting down the time quite nicely. But on this occasion, Lady Amalthia was having a hard time believing she would make it to Asgard without killing someone or something. Her sister, Princess Arameth, first born and in line to marry the only best- blahblahblah – hadn't stopped complaining since they were out of hearing range of their father. It had started with complaining of her future suitor, and how his supposed isolation had turned him into a troll or something like that. It slowly progressed to where she talked of the lack of good food in Asgard, the overabundance of ale, and the horrid clothing they wore.

"Darling little sister, do take care to remember that all of my clothes will still be mine when I marry this Prince, and that you are not allowed to wear them, understood?" She tossed her dark chestnut hair over her shoulder, turning her nose up as she glanced back into her hand mirror that she insisted upon carrying on her person at all times. Amalthia had to steer her horse closer to take the reins of her sister's mount as well, sighing quietly to herself.

"Yes, Princess." She watched out of the corner of her eye as her sister touched her skin, frowning every so often and correcting any blemish with a tiny spark of magic. A small smile graced her slips, seeming more to Amalthia like an evil smirk than the smiles of her long-ago childhood.

"Soon, little pet, you'll be calling me Queen of Asgard."

* * *

The air of the archives was stuffy, and smelled of old paper, ink, and the unmistakable hint of mint that came with using his magic to light the torches. Their green flames lit up the underground rooms with a mystifying glow, perfectly illuminating the prince and his son, who were resting in two of the few chairs in the whole archives. Stacks of books surrounded them, one in each of their laps as Loki tried to teach Jormungandr –Jorry, as he was fondly referred as by his father- how to light the candles like he had done. Looking up from his book at his son, he smiled at how much he'd started looking like his father. Although they technically shared no blood, Jorry had taken on the trademark black locks of Loki, but kept them hanging in his face most of the time, occasionally pushing them behind his ears. His skin was pale, but patches of it were flecked with green and black scales- a reminder that he was still, indeed, a world eating snake. His eyes were a bright yellow, silted like a snake and always perceptive of everything.

"But Father, I can see just fine in the dark, why do I need to learn a lighting spell?" The slight elongation of his "s" was almost adorable to his father's ears, but he kept the grin off his face.

"So that you may have the ability to either bask your enemy in your eerie glow, or plunge them into total darkness." Loki kept his voice soft, but he knew even if he had dramatically shouted the words, Jorry would have had the same reaction; which was to roll his eyes, run his hand over his face and try to hide the grin that was sneaking out of his normally cool and calculated mask. "Now, let's try it one more time." Leaning forward in their seats, father and son attempted to bring a different color to the single candle between them.

* * *

It was nearly midday before the two Elves reached Asgard, having to stop multiple times so that Arameth's gown would not wrinkle, and to make sure Amalthia could adjust her flowing silks to have the most impact on those looking at her without them dirtying. She took care to adjust the sashes around her gold-plaited waist garment, insuring that their purple color stood out against the creams and whites that she wore. Ridding across the rainbow bridge, Amalthia could take a minute to admire the world; the bright skies that seemed to change color randomly, the golden buildings in the distance, and the green grass that shimmered like emeralds. Her sister, on the other hand, was too busy looking around for people to show off too, muttering about stupid Aesirs who were too busy drinking to admire their future queen. With a sigh, Amalthia clicked at her horse, cantering to keep up with her now displeased older sister.

As they arrived at the royal palace, Arameth was delighted to find out that not only was her suitor there to greet her, but so were the King and Queen of Asgard. She gracefully dismounted her steed, walking over to them with her nose held high. Bowing for them, just low enough to please the King and Queen, she took a regal looking stance. "King Odin, Queen Frigga, it's a pleasure to be in your company once again." Odin gruffed in the back of his throat, while Frigga smiled, gesturing to her son.

"Princess, this is our son, Prince Loki. Loki, this is Princess Arameth." Loki put on a fake smile, bowing low enough to show he was still of higher rank than her. As he looked up, he happened to look past her, and straight into the eyes of Amalthia.

His heard sped up, thumping loudly in his chest and making him dizzy. Her multi-toned blonde hair gave her a heavenly glow, and the simple dress she wore did nothing to detract her beauty. He watched her flush bright red and curtsy low before turning and steering the horses into the stable. Loki frowned, and turned to Arameth.

"Princess, why does your sister not stand proud with you? Is she not also royalty?" Arameth's jaw set, and she tried to contain the venom in her voice.

"I'm afraid, Prince Loki, that she does not fit the… qualifications to be a princess." Her eyes traveled to Loki's face, an evil smile on her lips. "She spends too much time with the commoners and with her face in a book." Loki's frown deepened, and he turned to his parents with a small bow.

"Forgive me Father, Mother, but I do have to attend to my son, who has been vying for my attention." Standing and waiting for his mother to nod, he turned, making his way for the stables. Arameth frowned, turning towards the Queen, who held her hand up.

"His son does come first, along with all his other children. Please, let me show you to your room so you may relax before dinner." Arameth followed, a scowl on her normally perfect face.

* * *

So, that's it! Well, ok, it's really not. There's a lot more to come, just not right now. Right now, I have to go take a placement test, go to the bank, and take the cats to the vet.

Sorry it was so short, but I am pressed for time, so it will have to do until I can get home and do a few more chapters.

CLICK THE BUTTON AND REVIEW SO THAT I MAY SQUEE AT YOU AND THANK YOU PROFUSELY!


	2. It's Like Watching the Night Skies

Hello and welcome to Chapter two! I know it's totally not in my character to do two in one day, but what the hell. Breaking in the new account and shit. Anyway, just enjoy the fluff I have for you, because shit's going down next chapter!

Thanks to **KITTY LOVES HAWKEYE** for being the first reviewer!

Also, thanks to **evitakrishna88** for the last minute review! Yes, she is a huge bitch, and I'll prove it at the end of this long fluff session! :D Give our little twittering love birds credit! Their love will move fast, and possibly die young, like all good things in life.

Disclaimer: Lawl I don't own shit.

-~Since my page breaks like to not work too well, lets try this.~-

Loki reached the stables faster than normal, and he attributed it to the fact his adrenaline was pumping through his veins like liquid courage. Quietly slipping around the corner, he was met with the sight of her stroking the neck of his youngest son. Her peach colored skin was a beautiful contrast against the grey and black hair of Sleipnir, and her gentle laughter as he nuzzled her neck and face was like metal wind chimes in a breeze.

"Oh, you sweet young thing, I do wish I knew thy name so that I might praise you for being so handsome!" Her voice was just was he expected of an Elf, light and airy, but at the same time very regal. The natural soprano tones of her voice made his soul melt into a puddle, and he had to lean against the wood of the stable door to keep from falling over.

"Sleipnir." His voice betrayed his nerves; it was cool and slightly deep, like grazing your hand through a still pool of water in winter. Amalthia jumped a little, and Sleipnir whinnied happily at his father. "His name is Sleipnir." He pushed off the wall, smiling as she stepped away from the horse and bowed deeply.

"Oh, forgive me, Prince Loki! I didn't know he was your horse. I was just admiring his uniqueness!" Her voice was rushed, and she tried not to squeak. Loki bent a little at the waist, touching the underside of her chin with the tips of his fingers and lifting her head up, the rest of her following.

"Please, my Lady, if he pleases you than continue to enjoy my son's company." Loki turned to give the foal a few gentle strokes on the neck, before turning back to Amalthia. "Forgive me, but your sister did not give us a name for a beauty such as yourself." She flushed pink, lowering her head respectfully.

"It's Amalthia, your highness." Dipping low, he grasped her hand gently, bringing it to his lips to place a tender kiss on her knuckles.

"Welcome to Asgard, Lady Amalthia." She giggled behind her other hand, curtsying gracefully.

"Please regard me kindly, Prince Loki." Loki laughed at her formality; it was a genuine laugh of pleasure and not of malice like he normally did. It made Amalthia smile, knowing she could make a prince so supposedly cold hearted as Loki laugh so freely. She watched as he stroked his son, leaning his face against the nose of his son. "If I may be so bold, My Prince, you and your son seem very close." She smiled. "Do you have any other children?" He turned, trying to ignore the tickle of Sleipnir's breath on his neck.

"Yes, I have two more sons plus a daughter." Amalthia's eyes lit up, and she clasped her hands in front of her bosom in excitement.

"Oh, I'd love to meet them all one day! I mean-" She adverted her eyes, fiddling with her sash. Loki laughed again, her antics giving him great joy.

"A few might be hard to find, but I know at least one that you may meet today." She snapped her head up, a look of astonishment on her face.

"My lord, do not all of your children live on Asgard with you?" A look of pain washed over his face briefly, before it disappeared behind his normal façade.

"No, my eldest and my only daughter live elsewhere, completely against my will, I assure you." Before Amalthia could speak, give him an apology, comfort him, anything, a flash of light green magic blinded her. When it dimmed, she found herself staring at a little black-haired boy in royal clothes jumping around her father, much like a foal.

"Mommy! Mommy! May I tell her the story! I do so ever want to tell Lady Amalthia the story! Please!" He stopped long enough to take hold of his mother/father's hand and look up into his amazed face with his own pleading expression. Loki bent down and picked up the boy, who looked no older than six or seven.

"Sleipnir, when did you learn to do a shape-shifting incantation?" Sleipnir wrapped his arms around Loki's neck, playing with the hair that looked so much a longer version of his own.

"Jorry comes down at night and teaches me things you taught him." He looked up suddenly. "Is that bad? Am I in trouble?" Loki smiled, pressing his nose to his sons.

"No, my darling, in fact I'm very proud of you and your brother." With a cry of joy, Sleipnir jumped from his mother's arms and ran to Amalthia, taking one of her hands in two of his and leading her out of the back door into the pasture.

"Come on, come on My Lady!" She laughed softly, turning her head over her shoulder to look at Loki, who was smiling and shaking his head but following at a more leisurely pace.

-~This is a PAGE BREAK!~-

Hours past in that pasture, under the trees that had beautiful leaves that provided shade for the trio. Sleipnir greatly enjoyed retelling the stories of his siblings, and Amalthia took it all in stride, never once thinking how strange it was that Loki had slept around with strange creatures, or that he birthed Sleipnir himself as a mare. Loki enjoyed spending the rare time with his son, and took every chance he could to make conversation with the beauty next to him.

When the sun began to set, and the call for them to come to the feasting hall was heard over their talking, Loki stood up, holding a hand out to Amalthia, who gladly took it, her legs weak from sitting on the grass for so long. Sleipnir looked up at his mother with watery eyes.

"Do you really have to leave?" Loki scooped up his son, relishing in the way his small body was so easy to love, rather than the horse he was used to.

"Unfortunately, my son. Fret not, I'll be sure to bring the Lady by tomorrow so you may retell some of your stories to her." He glanced over his sons head to Amalthia. "If that is alright with her, of course." She smiled, walking to them and taking one of Sleipnir's hands in hers.

"I'd love to hear more of your wonderful tales, Sleipnir." She kissed his hand, which made the boy giggle.

After goodbyes were said, and Sleipnir had changed back into a foal, the two adults walked back to the palace. It was an enjoyable walk, with a little small talk being exchanged before they arrived at the main doors. Loki opened them, and turned to find Amalthia bowing to him.

"Thank you for the wonderful evening, sire, but I'm afraid 'tis time for me to take my leave." Loki gaped at her, a look of hurt and confusion on his face.

"Whatever are you talking about? Are you not joining us for the feast?" She smiled sadly, backing her way down the stairs.

"Unfortunately, where I come from, only the Princess gets to feast with other Royals. Please, enjoy the rest of your night, My Prince." Turning quickly, she walked quickly to the side of the building, turning the corner and fading from his sight.

-~I Page Break for King Loki!~-

Her heart thudded in her chest, her eyes wet with tears as she blindly made her way through the palace back-halls until she came to a maid who was sweeping the hall.

"Excuse me, could you tell me where Princess Arameth's sister is staying?" Without turning around, the old maid pointed up a set of stairs.

"Very last door on your right." With a quick thank you that went unanswered, Amalthia climbed the stairs briskly, walking down the lavish hallway until she reached her intended door. Opening it gently, she peeked inside, finding it decorated in blues and creams. Stepping in and closing the door, she made her way to the bed, where her satchel and a note were. Picking it up, she sighed as she read it.

_Amalthia,_

_I know not where you went, and frankly, I care very little. Do go into my room next door and fix the awful colors, wont you? I would like my purples and golds back. _

_Also, do not bother me unless I call for you. I shall be trying to seduce this Prince, and will not have my baby sister walking in._

_Princess Arameth._

Rolling her eyes, Amalthia walked out again, this time turning to her left and entering her sister's room. It was the same size as her, just mirrored. The same colors adorned the walls, floors, and bedding. Closing the door behind her, she walked slowly around the room, touching things here and there; turning them rich purple or shimmering gold with her magic laced fingers. After she had walked the room and adjoining bath, she rubbed her sore hands, and with one last look around, walked back to her room.

As she turned around from closing the door, she was met with golden eyes behind her. With a small shriek, she jumped back, her back against the door. In front of her stood a teenager with the top half of a boy, and the bottom of a snake. Shaking her head a little, she leaned forward a little.

"Would you happen to be Jormungandr?" Her voice shook a little, still startled. He blinked, taken aback a little.

"Yes. How do you know of me, stranger of the Elvin kind?" The formality and unmistakable hint of snake tongue in his voice made her smile, and she curtsied to him.

"Amalthia, your lordship, sister to the Princess Arameth, whom is courting your Father." She winked, laughing gently. "Your father and Sleipnir have told me much of the wondrous and magical older brother that is Jorry." He nodded, hands behind his back as he wandered the room lazily. Amalthia took a seat on the small stool that was under the vanity table, folding her legs under and behind her a little, smoothing out her skirts.

"Tell me, why aren't you down in the feasting hall with everyone else? Are you not yourself a princess?" Amalthia sighed, combing her fingers through her hair.

"It's a long and boring tale I'm afraid." Jorry slithered over, coiling up and sitting on the floor in front of her.

"I don't mind. Those feasts take forever anyway." With a smile, Amalthia began to recount her tale for the young world eater, who listened intently.

FLASHBACK! WOOT WOOT!

_A very young Amalthia sat with her father and sister, listening as he chanted in the ancient tongues, making his magic swirl and create a story for them in the air. The sisters, Arameth four and Amalthia two, held hands as they laughed at the story, Amalthia sucking gently on one thumb. Arameth looked up at their father; a thin and heavily bearded man named King Gandorf _(A/N: Hush your face on that, I wanted him to be Gandalf, but that would confuse the dumb people.) _with childish admiration. _

"_Father, I wish to learn magic!" She said, earning a chuckle from her father. He patted their heads, ruffling their hair._

"_You both will. Like all Elves before you, and all those to come, it flows in your veins, like a river through the valley."_

_Years later, as Arameth pranced about in their mother's clothes, pretending to be a queen, Amalthia sat on their parents bed reading her father's spell books. Already, at the age of eight, she could conjure things, as well as change the appearance of things. Her sister, on the other had only just learned how to make a small ball of magic rest on her hand. _

"_Sister, should you not be studying?" Arameth laughed haughtily, spinning around in front of the mirror._

"_A queen needn't study! Before Amalthia could retaliate, their mother, Queen Coquina walked in._

"_You're right, my beautiful Princess, a queen need not worry over her magics. It shall just come to her, if she needs it." Without a glance to her younger daughter, she picked up Arameth in her arms and swept out of the room._

_At the age of sixteen, Amalthia had lost all hope of being anything more than her sister's handmaiden. After the death of their Mother, which everyone suspected was no accident as their Father had claimed it was, Arameth had taken upon herself to become the woman of the council, and slowly was working her way through all the men of the court to secure her title. After a while, everyone started calling her Princess, while Amalthia remained the Lady she was. _

_Her father, less grief-stricken than he should be, almost always forgot about his youngest, his mind going into a haze with old age. He was powerless to stop anything that her sister did, including writing it in their laws that there may only be one princess at one time, effectively leaving Amalthia out of everything._

Jorry looked up with wide eyes as she finished her tale. Sometime through the telling she'd begun to cry, beautiful crystal tearsthat spilled down her cheeks in sleek streams. Jorry took a white cloth from the pocket of his shirt, uncoiling enough to wipe at her face gently. She reached out and cupped his cheek, smiling through her tears.

"Thank you, sweet boy." Jorry blushed, and removed his hand, satisfied when no more tears spilled. He scratched absentmindedly at one of the patches of scales on his face, eyes downcast.

"I am sorry, for the things you've been through. It is truly unfair." She took his face in her hands, leaning in to kiss the patch of scales he had been playing with.

"I have learned that life is not fair, kind Jorry, but that we must learn to live with it and move through it." She pulled back to run her hands over his hair, smiling as he slithered forward to embrace her middle. "You know how unfair this wide world can be, don't you, baby?" He nodded, blinking away the sudden tears that came to his eyes. She continued to pet his hair, until he pulled away, eyes trailing to the door.

"Father is calling me. I think I need to leave." She looked at him, and before she could ask, she felt a pulse of magic, like a slow heart beat. She closed her eyes, and she could hear the faint voice of Loki.

"_Jormungandr, if you are out causing the women of the palace grief again, I swear I will either scold you or come join you if you do not come back down here immediately."_

Amalthia laughed, and moved her hands to Jorry's shoulders. "Please, spare us the pranks of your father and go to him." Kissing his cheek, she smiled as he blushed. Slithering to the door, he glowed a faint yellow before turning into a tiny garden snake and sliding underneath it. She let out a content sigh before getting up and making her way to her bath.

-~Can I get a "D'awh" for the cute?~-

Jorry slipped under the door of the archives and made his way back to the back wall where his father was idly flipping through an old tome of spells. He looked up as the yellow glow of his son's shape shifting filled the little nook, tisk-ing under his breath.

"So glad you could finally join me, little Jorry. Tell me," He leaned forward, playfully looking menacing. "who were you tormenting without me, hmm?" Jorry fiddled with the hem of his shirt, tail flicking back and forth.

"No one… I felt magic, and investigated." He looked up through his hair, finding his father smiling at the corners of his mouth.

"Oh? And who did you find, my curious little serpent?"

"Lady Amalthia. She told me stories while you were at dinner." He looked away sheepishly, his voice the perfect example of a teenager done something wrong. "And I may or may not have made her cry a little." Loki looked surprised, and Jorry crossed his arms, face flushing. "Not on purpose! She just told me things that hurt her…" His father sighed, pulling his son in closer, hands on his shoulders, just like Amalthia had done.

"I'm not angry, Jorry. Just disappointed that you weren't out causing trouble while I was away." They both smiled, mirror images of each other, just a few hundred years apart. "So, what did she tell you?" It was Jorry's turn to sigh, as he sat next to his father and retold her story.

After he had finished, he watched as his father's face went from anger to concern, to hope to sadness, all in the span of a second. Loki stood, running a hand through his hair. Jorry swished his tail against the floor, hands on either side of him on the bench.

"Are you going to go see her?" Loki looked at his son, still a little out of it.

"You think I should?" Jorry snorted, crossing his arms.

"Clearly you like her. And I think she likes you. So just go up and, I don't know, do whatever you adults do when that happens." Loki laughed, turning to ruffle his son's hair against his protests before planting a kiss on his head.

"My son, you are far too cleaver for your own good."

-~Page Break!~-

Amalthia sat, hair slightly damp and curling into ringlets on one shoulder, a black knee length dress on her body, and pleasantly barefoot at the vanity, absentmindedly brushing her hair. Her thoughts were on Loki, his children, Asgard and all it's wonder. The way women were so free, respected by many as long as they behaved and maybe even when they didn't. With a sigh, she set down the brush. When she looked back into the mirror, she saw Loki standing against the far wall of her room, arms crossed lazily in front of him. Amalthia jumped, spinning around to face him.

"Good evening, My Lady." He smiled. "I do hope I'm not intruding." She made a displeased noise, although the grin on her face assured him she wasn't upset.

"I should have figured that Jorry would have gotten his habit of sneaking up on people from his father." She turned back around to face her mirror, watching him advance towards her, hands behind his back. "And no, My Prince, you are never intruding as far as I'm concerned." He smiled, but inside, his heart was soaring. He was _never_ intruding? Did that mean she liked him? He snapped back to reality, where he was standing directly behind her as she worked a comb through her curls, mentally telling himself to stop acting like a hormonal teenager and get on with wooing her. He leaned forward, taking the comb from her fingers. She looked at him curiously in the mirror, gasping as he ran the comb gently through her long locks, separating the ringlets as they dried to get the lovely, bouncy and touchable curls she normally wore.

As he worked it through her hair, he looked at her reflection, noticing the mixture of awe, shock, and happiness. Quirking one corner of his mouth up he continued, and managed not to sigh in happiness when she spoke.

"Tell me, Prince-" He hushed her with a glance, not harsh, but a hard stare that made her stop.

"Please, just Loki. I'm tired of being a Prince, or a Sir, and definitely Your Highness." She smiled before restarting.

"Loki, do you know much about Elvin customs?" Her hands found the hem of her dress, and she ran her fingers over the stitching slowy.

"I'm afraid I do not, my Lady. Why do you ask?" She laughed quietly, looking at him through the mirror, her eyes taking on a mischievous glint that not only worried Loki, it turned him on to a point he had to bite his tongue to suppress a groan.

"Well to start with, calling someone by their first name means a lot." The corners of her mouth twitched up, making her whole face seem impish and cunning. "It signifies familiarity enough that they trust you with the word that binds us to our _souls_, the thing that makes us _who we are_." Loki's hands began to shake, and he had to mentally beat himself into keeping his cool. This woman would not reduce him to a puddle, especially at his own game. "That, and the act of brushing someone else's hair is a very intimate thing to do, one usually reserved for married couples or those who are to be wed." At that, Loki stopped his brushing, face turning a very light shade of pink as she held his gaze. He pulled back, comb in hand, head turning to the side out of embarrassment.

"Forgive me, I didn't mean to… to…" Curse his supposed tongue. Curse her ability to turn his words into dust that floated away before he could grasp them. Curse her for her beauty. Amalthia stood, taking the comb gently before reaching up on tip toes to gently run it through his black locks. Loki's eyes were as wide as they would go, and he was sure she was going to laugh at him any moment. This clearly had to be a prank. A cruel twist of fate, surely.

Instead of her laughing, she just smiled sweetly, her hands still working through his hair. Locking eyes with him, their faces so close she could taste the mint of his breath, she whispered softly enough he was sure without his godly hearing he would have missed it.

"Call me Amalthia, Loki. Please."

That was it, his breaking point. Without thinking, and not really caring what might happen if he did, Loki quickly leaned forward, capturing her soft rose petal lips with his own. She tasted like lemons, sweet and citrusy with undertones of something sour and addictive. Amalthia was startled at first, gasping against his mouth before dropping the comb, wrapping her arms around his neck, her fingers tangled in his dark locks. His lips were cold, not unpleasantly so, and she had to refrain from thinking of what they would feel like on places other than her lips.

Loki pushed his tongue along her lips, and she gladly parted them, gasping when she felt his hands hold her waist, one traveling up to her back, pulling her close. As suddenly as the kiss had started, it ended. Loki kept places quick kisses to her lips, even as he tried to talk.

"Please," Kiss. "Come with me." Kiss. Kiss. "Just for a moment." Another kiss, with Amalthia nodding against his lips. Without breaking it, Loki transported them to a rooftop garden, a place where no one else would go at this time of night. Amalthia broke away, looking at him curiously.

"Why here?" He smiled, almost grinning, his tongue pressing against the back of his teeth for a split second.

"Look up." Obediently she did, and gasped at the sight. Millions and billions of stars, galaxies, nebulas; everything was above her in a vast night sky that spanned as far as the distant horizon. Leaving his hold, she walked around in circles, eyes glued on the sky, mouth open in a grin. Loki walked over, taking her hand in his and pulling her from her stargazing. "Do you like it?" Amalthia smiled, tears in her eyes.

"Oh Loki, you have no idea… We can't see the start very often in Alfheimr because of the trees… Oh Loki." She hugged him tightly and he wrapped his arms around her, picking her up with a devilish grin and spinning her, her laughter making his stomach do flips.

"Amalthia, I need to tell you something." He set her down, laughing at her now slightly poufy hair. She smiled up at him, tilting her head and arching a brow.

"Yes, oh Lord of Romanics?" He took her hands, his face very serious.

"I cannot marry your sister, I hope you know that." She let out a breath she didn't know she was holding.

"I would pray not!" They laughed, before Loki composed himself.

"I realize that this may seem… rash, but I assure you I've never felt so sure of something before in my life." Amalthia stopped smiling, her heart sped up so fast she was sure this was her time to go to Valhalla. Loki bit his lip, hands shaking. "Amalthia… I want to marry you. I don't know if this is what love feels like, but I can tell you without lies that I've never felt this way before, and I want to continue feeling like this forever." He looked into her eyes, his shoulders slumped a little, his frame hunched over so that he was almost nose-to-nose with her. Her breath hitched, and her eyes watered.

"But… I'm not a princess. I'm basically just a maid for my sister. How will your parents react? My sister will be furious…" Loki covered her mouth with his hand, a stern look on his face.

"Damn your sister! Damn my parents! Jorry told me how she made it so in your lands you could never be a true Princess but in Asgard, you were a Royal from the moment you crossed the Bifrost!" Tears spilled from her eyes, but Loki continued. "Your sister is a cruel woman who doesn't deserve the air she breathes. You grace everyone you meet with your mere presence! You've won the hearts of my sons as well as myself, and I say curse whoever tries to deny us!" His magic was crackling in the air, and Amalthia sent out some of hers, gentle streams of light yellow light that caressed his green until they twisted around each other.

Amalthia pulled away his hand, holding it in hers. "Loki, I can think of no better way to spend the rest of my life than here with you and your sons." He leaned closer, resting his forehead on hers, using his free hand to wipe away her tears.

"Soon to be our sons, my love." With that, he closed the distance, giving her a kiss that left her vision fussy and her legs weak.

-~Page Brake!~-

Below them, in Arameth's room, she was seething with rage. She had been peacefully asleep when a shock of magic from next door had awoken her. It hadn't been her sister's sweet magic she'd felt, but rather something harsh and cold. Rushing into her room, she was just in time to see the green cloud of magic dissipate. With a growl she stormed back into her room, immediately going for her bag that held her poisons.

With an evil glee, she mixed for hours, getting it just right until she was too tired to continue, and lay in her royal purple sheets, plotting the soon to be necessary fake tears when her sister lays dead at her feet.

-~FIN~-

So, that's chapter two. Any thoughts? Please review this time. I really can't write anymore if only once person expresses fondness for it.


	3. Or a Beautiful Sunrise

Hello darlings! I'm sorry for not uploading this sooner, but I've been in and out of the hospital for a month or so with complications with some meds I'm on. I'm mostly ok now, enough that I finished this and have another story I'm starting.

Don't mind the Elvish in this chapter, it's just the formal way of speaking for these girls and not important to the story.

Also, this is really short, but the next few will be longer. I just needed these things to happen before the action can start!

CONTEST: If you can guess who I USED to be, I'll put you in the story! Hint: I had a few popular stories in a few different categories, but my best work was a Jonathan CranexOC that I just left to die in the Batman category.

They had snuck down off the roof after another hour of kissing and the occasional bouts of dancing brought on by Loki, and Amalthia woke with the sunrise streaming into her window. Blinking and groaning she sat up, pulling back the covers and stretching her arms above her head before slipping out of bed. Walking to the large window she looked out, one hand on the cool glass the other wrapped around her middle. From her window, she could see the stables where Sleipnir was cantering in circles around his father, who was laying in the grass reading a book, one arm under his head, legs arched and one crossed over the other. She laughed, as Sleipnir rolled on his back next to his mother, clicking his hooves together in what she assumed was joy.

Leaving the window she walked to her vanity, her hands ghosting over her dress changing it back to the one she'd worn before, the tingle of her magic making her shiver. Sitting down on the stool, she went to grab her comb and instead found a letter. Opening it delicately, she smiled at the words, her thumbs rubbing the edges of the paper.

_Beloved,_

_If you wish to brush your hair this morn, you must give me something in return. I shall be with Sleipnir, so make haste before I use it to untangle his mane._

_Yours,_

_Loki._

With a sigh, a smile on her face, she stood up, checking her appearance quickly before exiting the room. With a quick peek into her sister's room to confirm she was still sleeping soundly, she rushed down the stairs, exiting through the kitchens and running to the stables. When she arrived she paused, trying to calm her racing heart and smoothing her hair before walking as calmly as she could through the stalls until she reached the back door.

Loki had been only half-listening to Sleipnir ramble on in his horse-tongue, which to most people sounded only like whinnying and nickering. He had wanted to finish this tome before Amalthia showed; and he was sure she would, and it was just a matter of time until she did. He was startled out of his reading when Sleipnir whinnied loudly and galloped to the gate where his newly-acquired ray of sunshine stood, hair slightly more disheveled than normal, but still beautiful none the less. Sitting up, he smiled, watching his son nuzzle his face into hers, his eight legs shuffling with barely contained excitement. He could hear her laugh, and saw her hands rub circles into the foal's neck. Sleipnir trotted behind her, pushing her with his face until she started walking, a grin plastered on her face and when their eyes met, Loki had to contain his overflowing emotions.

When she reached him he took her hand, kissing it chastely before gesturing to the ground next to him.

"Please, join us." She sat, legs folded to the side. "I take it you got my note?" She tilted her head towards him; a mischievous look on her face, and Loki noticed how well it suited her.

"Of course I got your note, darling Loki. Although," She smirked, her pointed Elvish features standing out in the growing morning light. "I could have easily just created a new comb, you know." Loki leaned in, their faces close enough that his lips brushed hers as he spoke.

"Then alas, I would have not gotten this chance to steal a kiss from you." He closed the gap, kissing her with skilled lips just long enough to leave her vision spinning when he pulled away. "Or been able to enjoy this wonderful sunrise in your radiant presence." He smirked, taking her hand and folding the comb in it. "Forgive my thieving nature, Princess."

She laughed, head down to look at the comb in her hands. The ivory teeth were smooth under her fingers, and the gold knot designs on the handle shimmered in the sunlight. Loki raised his hand, running his fingers through her hair slowly, smiling as her head leaned into his touch. "Loki…" Her voice was soft, and when their eyes met, bright gold to dark green, Loki could have sworn he looked straight into her soul. "Would you…. I mean…" Her hands fiddled with the comb, and Loki smirked.

"Why yes, I'd love to do the honors of brushing your hair, lovely Amalthia." She smiled, and faced forward as he got up to sit behind her, his legs splayed and bent at her sides. Sleipnir, who had run away at the sight of the two adults swapping DNA, came trotting back, his magic glowing brightly for a split second before he reappeared in his child form. He sat down in front of Amalthia, legs bent up with his head resting on his knees, hands in the grass.

"Miss Lady, is it true you and Mommy are going to get married?" His eyes were adverted, and his fingers grasped at the blades of grass. Amalthia looked startled for a moment, catching Loki chuckle behind her. Taking a breath, she put a smile on her face.

"Would you like us to get married, Sleipnir?" He looked up, green eyes wide.

"I get to help?" She laughed, taking his hands in hers and pulling him into her lap, where she brushed his hair out of his eyes with tender fingers.

"Of course. I won't marry your Mommy without permission from all of his children." She tapped the tip of his nose with a nail, making him giggle. "What if I turned out to be an evil step-mother!" She tickled him, fingers kneading his sides until he was threatening to kick her with his squirming. Loki just looked on, hands still working through her curls and waves.

Sleipnir, after he caught his breath, looked up at her, face pink with childish joy and a cheek splitting grin on his face. "You make Mommy happy. You make Jorry happy. You make me happy. Why shouldn't you be my other Mommy?" The innocence in his voice almost made her cry, and the truthfulness of his words touched both her and Loki, who stopped brushing to look over her shoulder.

"Sleipnir, that was the sweetest thing you've ever said." His mother said, getting a stern look on his face. "Who are you and what have you done with my son, the supposed Son of the Great Prince of Lies?" At that, Amalthia and Sleipnir laughed, and Loki slipped the comb into his pocket, everything forgotten but the two people with him.

~~Page Break~~

Arameth awoke in a fog, her sleep plagued with dark thoughts and plots of evil doings against her sister. Growling back in her throat at the midmorning sun streaming in through her window, rolling away from the light and stuffing the pillow over her head.

She tried to fall back asleep, but the butterflies that invaded her stomach at her plans for the day prevented anything but awaking her more. Throwing the pillow across the room, she pulled herself out of bed, walking to her bathing chambers. What greeted her not only infuriated her, but also hardened her resolve on killing her sister. Her bathwater hadn't been drawn; her clothes were not placed neatly in a pile, nor were her sister here to tend to her every whim. If she had been a teapot, steam would be shooting out of her ears in an angry scream. Instead, she resorted to screaming her sister's name.

"Amalthia! Hortho! Sí!"* The elvish flowed off her tongue like a harsh waterfall, cursing her sister inwardly while standing in the middle of the bath chamber.

~~Break~~

Amalthia had just come up from the kitchens, a tray of fruit, bread, and nectar in her hands as she walked up the stairs. It was common for her sister to sleep in, and although she wished she could sleep forever so that Loki would not have to leave her side, she also knew that if they were to keep their love a secret until he could discuss it with the King and Queen, her sister needed to be awake.

As she reached the top of the stairs, she heard the screeching call from her sister's room. With a sigh, she hurried along the hallway, pushing the door open with her back and walking in, closing the door with her foot. Setting the tray down on the bed she rushed into the bath, greeting her sister with a bow.

"Suil, muinthel." She rose, her mask of calm replacing whatever she was feeling. Amalthia took in the anger on her sister's face, not at all soothed by her quiet voice.

"Gi fuion! My bath is not drawn, my clothes not prepared!" She placed her hands on her hips, knuckles white. "Have you not gotten my breakfast as well, impudent child?" Amalthia kept her cool, as this was not an unusual reaction from her sister.

"Goheno nin, hiril vell. Your breakfast is already prepared. I shall draw your bath now, if that would please you." With a nod and a 'humph', Arameth left, going to her bed to eat. Amalthia stayed, using a flick of her wrist to turn the taps, letting the steaming water flow into the marble and gold tub. Another flick had her sister's favorite outfit folding nicely on a marble topped table against the wall. She arranged her sister's favorite combs, brushes, scented oils, and perfumes next to a basin of water.

In the other room, Arameth was hastily searching her room for a comb, a lovely red apple her hand. One lay on her vanity and she made a quiet noise of satisfaction, grabbing it and holding it up to the apple, piercing the skin with one thin tooth. Once the hole was made, she took the bottle of poison from her robes, carefully draining it into the hole until the bottle was empty. With a laugh she walked back to sit on the bed, placing the apple on the tray of fruit.

When Amalthia walked in, Arameth found it hard to contain her smirk. Her sister bowed, and she noticed her hair hadn't been braided like it normally was.

"Sister, your bath is ready for you to use at your leisure." Arameth smiled, standing and walking to her sister. She handed her the apple, one of her hands ghosting over her younger sister's cheek.

"Ni 'lassui. Take the day to yourself. If I need you, I shall find you." And with that, she entered the bath, shutting the door behind her. She disrobed, an evil smile on her face and even more cruel thoughts running through her mind.

~~Break~~

Amalthia walked to her room, the apple still in one hand, a million thoughts going through her head. Her sister's mood swings were normal, but none of them ever involved being kind to her, let alone giving some of her food away. She leaned against the door, passing the apple from one hand to another, feeling the cool red skin gradually warm under her touch.

Walking to her bed she sat on the edge with a sigh, thinking the most wonderful thoughts of a wedding, with a white dress adorned with her royal purple and his favorite green, surrounded by family from both sides. She laughed, thinking of how her sister would react to being usurped from marrying the prince. Without much thought, she bit into the apple, the sweetness familiar on her tongue. After a few bites the apple turned bitter, and Amalthia found herself coughing, the apple falling forgotten on the ground as she coughed blood onto her hand before slipping into blackness.

Down the hall, Arameth was dressed and walking towards the grand hall, where Loki stood talking to Frigga. As she entered both turned to look at her, a brief look of disgust passing over Loki's face, but Arameth was too busy bowing to notice.

"Please excuse my intrusion, but I'd like to have a word with the Prince, if at all possible." Frigga excused herself, much to Loki's dismay, and he watched as Arameth sauntered to him, speaking of showing him true Elvin hospitality and babbling on about their grand wedding. Reluctantly, he let himself be led down the halls aimlessly, trying to block out her talking with thoughts of his Sunshine.

~~Break~~

A snake slithered down the marble hallway of the third floor, causing some servant girls to shriek and run away, which suited Jorry just fine. Odin might scold him for it later but he cared very little, seeing as the man could only yell at him through the heavily magical door, not even sure if Jorry was really in there listening.

He reached Amalthia's door, melding his form into his usual half boy half snake appearance so that he could knock on her door.

"Lady Amalthia?" Silence, so he knocked again. "It's Jorry, I've something to show you. Lady Amalthia?" He was again met with nothing, and shyly he pushed the door open, sure that he'd see her changing or something. In the end, he wished he'd seen her naked, for it would have been much better than the sight he was met with. Her hair was splayed around her head, some of it dark with blood along with the red on her pale face. Her eyes were closed, and as he rushed to her he felt the life draining from her body like a trickle of water from a broken cup.

Taking her up in his arms he felt for her heartbeat, only finding a faint flutter, and he began to panic. Sending out frantic pulses of magic from his body he called for his father, trying to keep tears from his eyes as he looked down on the fallen woman.

Loki stumbled as the strong wave of magic hit him and Arameth fell to the floor with a wail, both surprised with the intensity of it. The prince's eyes went wide as he listened to the desperate plea from his son, and forgetting all about the snake of a woman on the floor, he raced back down the hall, his magic surging around him before he disappeared. Arameth grinned wickedly and stood, calmly making her way towards her sister's room, trying to produce convincing tears.

Jorry looked up as his father appeared in a flash of green, eyes full of concern and puzzlement.

"Jorry, what-" His eyes cast down at his son, and in a split second he was on his knees in front of them, his arms going around Amalthia and his hand tilting her head up. "Amalthia!" He locked eyes with his son, who just shook his head, a few tears leaking out. Loki growled, standing with Amalthia in his arms like a bride and strode out of the room, calling back to his son to follow. Jorry stood and slithered after his father, ignoring the gasps of servants that they past.

Reaching the medical wing, Loki didn't wait for a doctor to notice before he placed her on a bed. Soon enough, a doctor appeared next to him; she was a kindly looking old woman, with a slight point to her wrinkled ears that gave away her half Elvin birth.

"Loki, what happened?" The prince shook his head, looking to Jorry who stepped forward.

"I found her like this, just laying on her floor." His voice was quiet and broke in a few places, the elongated "s" becoming more pronounced. Loki took his son's hand and enveloped him in a half hug, which surprisingly his son didn't fight. The doctor nodded and began to examine Amalthia, at one point opening her mouth and finding a piece of apple on her tongue. Pulling it out the doctor hissed in pain, throwing it to the floor where it burn the marble. The woman glared down at it before looking at the two men.

"I'm afraid she's been poisoned, Prince." Her eyes were dark, but Loki's were darker, growing black as night. "It's an ancient Elvin potion, not deadly in this case because you got here soon, but most likely would have killed her." Loki growled, removing his son from his side before striding out of the room, Hel bent on finding the woman who did this, and stringing her entrails around the grand hall as decoration for the wedding.

~~End~~

Well, there you have it loves! Again, sorry for the delay, and I promise I'll get better soon! Look for a new story I'm going to be uploading soon, where a woman gets love and terror from Slenderman and his creepy brother Splendorman!

~N.


	4. How Old is Your Soul?

Ok my little munchkins, I'm back. To keep it short, I had to take a hiatus after moving into my own place with the boyfriend and being the victims of a home invasion that left us both without computers until the insurance money cleared. So, after long adieu, here's chapter four!

Chapter Four: How Old is Your Soul?

_The pitch black darkness that she could see was imposing, and it frightened her to the core. Her eyes refused to open, refused to move under her lids, and with the taste of death on her tongue, Amalthia had the overwhelming feeling of dying. She didn't feel the beating of her heart, couldn't hear herself breathing, felt no sensation of clothes on her body. She was empty, and all she wanted to do was_

_cry._

_~..~_

Thor had been minding his own business, strolling through the halls of Valhalla with a lovely maiden on one arm and his hammer in the other, when he felt the chill of winter creep into his bones. He shivered, utterly perplexed at the severity of the cold in what was a very pleasant spring day. The woman on his arm was shivering, and he wrapped a bulking arm around her as they stopped their wanderings. Before he could ask anything, remark dully about the change in weather, Loki stormed past him, a breeze of freezing air following him.

"Brother? What hast thou so upset?" Loki spared him not a glance, normally blue eyes a shade of frightening green that glared at the space in front of him in a murderous rage.

"Ready thy hammer, brother." His voice was deeper than normal and practically dripped with venom, a rare occurrence even for the silver tongued prince. Thor left the lady on his arm with an apology, promising beautiful furs for having to leave so suddenly before jogging to catch up with his seething brother. He didn't question the call for battle considering he'd been itching for a fight for days, but he wondered silently why his little brother, who normally cringes at the sight of death, would be so enraged to ask him for aid.

~..~

Jorry hadn't moved since his father had stormed out of the room, leaving him with the kindly nurse and an unconscious Amalthia. He'd accepted the chair that the nurse, whom told him to call her Nana, and had seated himself by the bed. His hand found his way into her limp one, and his keen eyes watched as her chest barely rose and fell with her shallow breaths.

His eyes became unfocused as his mind ran circles about itself, thinking of all the outcomes and possibilities, analyzing the information and deducing conclusions. Clearly it had to be the fault of her tyrannical sister; who else would want her dead, considering that his father wasn't very popular with Aesir women. That only left Arameth, and from what he'd learned from Amalthia her sister had no qualms about killing people that got in her way.

He didn't notice at first when her breathing became a little deeper, her fingers twitching in his hold and her eyelids fluttering. It took him a minute to register that she was possibly waking up, and his first thought was to call for someone. Jorry's voice caught in his throat when she opened her eyes, their honey shade dull and seemingly lifeless. Her lips parted, and she tried to say something but the dryness of her throat prevented any sound coming out. Jorry regained some sense and called for Nana, who was at his side in an instant.

~..~

Sun shone through the large windows in the throne hall, casting their warming rays on Frigga and Odin as they sat in their gold gilded chairs, hands loosely clasped together as they enjoyed the rare moment ll of silence. It was broken shortly by the inevitable entrance of Loki and Thor, and Frigga would have sighed at the very familiar interruption if it wasn't for the unmistakable mask of rage that her youngest son wore. She was up and out of her chair in less than a second, her elegant form gliding down the stairs to meet her sons at the bottom.

"My son, why-"

"Where is she?" The cracking voice of Loki, so full of emotion and passion, almost broke her heart. Taking his face in her hands much as she had done when he was a small child she gazed into the unfamiliar green of his eyes.

"Who, Loki?" Tears filled his eyes, his teeth set so tightly together they were sure to crack.

He retold the story, as much as he could with his jaw so tight with anger, pushing through the gasps of his mother and the tell tale sound of Thor's hand tightening on his hammer to finish without a tear falling down his face. By the end, he was shaking with emotion, and his mother had tears streaked across her skin.

"You love her, don't you my dear?" She clicked her tongue in annoyance, more with herself than her son. "We should never have forced a woman upon you. We should have let you choose for yourself." Odin came up behind his wife, waiting for an answer. His one eye was dark and shinning at seeing this unusual display from his son.

"With my life." A resolute tone invaded his voice, and Odin moved his wife aside to face his son.

"Then this will not stand. We are on good standing with Alfheim, and if you wish to marry one princess over the other, we see no difference." Loki looked up into the face of his father, eyes shifting to a blue green that was a little more pleasant to look at.

"Thank you, father." Thor was behind him, hammer held tightly in one hand, the other gripping the shoulder of his brother. A rare look of concentration adorned his tanned face, before he smiled a smile of grim absolution.

"Come, let us deal with the rat in Valhalla."

~..~

The light hurt her eyes, and when she finally adjusted to the bright room she was in, the sight startled her. An elderly woman, who gave off the magic of an elf, was hovering over her with a glass of water in one hand. Jorry was behind her with a blank expression that mimicked the one his father wore most of the time. The woman leaned down, pressing the cool glass to her parched lips and Amalthia wasted no time sucking the liquid down fervently. The chilled water felt like heaven on her scorched tongue, and she winced as it flowed over and into the now noticeable crater inside her mouth. When the glass had run dry it was pulled from her lips, replaced shortly with soft hands of the woman.

"If it does not hurt you, pull your tongue out so I can see, deary." Amalthia tried to comply but the pain of moving the large muscle in her mouth caused her to shut her eyes tightly, the feeling of her tongue quivering with effort making her vision swim. Just as she was about to pull it back into her mouth, she felt fingers graze along her tongue, hot and searing pain dancing along her nerves for a breif moment before a spark of magic set in her teeth and the wound was covered in the soothing embrace of the woman's healing spell. Amalthia could feel the muscle twitch and regrow, but the pain of earlier never returned, and after a few minutes the fingers were removed, the one substantial hole in her mouth now gone.

"There you are, all better." Amalthia opened her eyes to look at the woman that was now busying herself with something next to her bed. She spotted Jorry near the foot of the white sheets and gave him her best smile, which he returned with earnest. She slowly sat up, feeling the woman shift and prop up the pillows for her. Jorry came up and sat next to her in a little wooden chair, one of his hands coming up to rest on top of hers.

"Father was sure you were dead." His voice shook a little, and she squeezed his hand gently. "He took off in a murderous rage, intent on finding Grandmother and Grandfather so they could deal out punishment for your sister." Amalthia sighed.

"I truly never wanted to wish her harm, but if it was she who indeed poisoned me, then I guess it leaves me no choice." She looked towards the door, feeling many emotions so thoroughly muddled together it was hard to choose one. She was angry at her sister, sad that she might end up just like her mother, fearful of what lie in the future, and happy that the man she loved would care about her so much as to forsake the woman he was supposed to marry because of her.

"She deserves far worse than what they will give her." She turned back to Jorry, who was staring at her intently with his slitted eyes. "Banishment and ridicule is most likely the worst of it."

"Yes but to her, loss of face is the worst kind of punishment." Jorry gave a crooked smirk, reminding her so much of his father that it almost hurt.

They sat there for an hour or so before Nana came back. She informed them of the public announcement that was commencing, and that Amalthia should be in attendance. Jorry helped her out of the bed, even when Amalthia protested softly that she didn't need help. With a good wish and farewell from Nana they hurried off to the dining and throne hall, where almost all of Asgard was gathered. There stood Odin and Frigga in front of their thrones, with Thor and Loki by their sides. Amalthia noticed his eyes scanning the room, and she drug Jorry to the side where they stood in line with his vision. When their eyes met, she could see him relax and he even gave a very soft smile before putting on a face of determination.

"People of Asgard!" Odin's booming voice quickly quieted the room. "As many of you know, your Queen and I had sent for a Princess of Alfheimr in an attempt to inspire your youngest Prince into marriage." He glanced at Loki, who gave him a slight scowl that had the crown snickering. The whole kingdom had watched Loki and Thor grow up, so these antics were as normal to them as their own daily lives. "But alas, that was not to be the case. Along with this princess came her sister, whom in her lands was not but a maid, in these glorious lands her title changed to Princess." Odin's eye fell on Amalthia, who wore a look of awe and inspiration on her face. "It was this shadowed princess that this morning was poisoned," a gasp from the crowd. "by none other than her own sister." At this point the whispers started, and two guards drug out a kicking Arameth from a side hall. All went silent, and from every corner of the room Arameth's voice rung out.

"These lies! This slander! How can you call yourselves _gods_ and yet torment a noble such as myself to this-this- _PUBLIC ridicule!_" From the back, Amalthia could see the hate in the eyes of her sister, the way her hair was frazzled and messy, so unlike her sister that it almost brought a tear to her eyes. Frigga stepped forward towards the struggling Princess.

"Princess Arameth, it is with no grievance that we banish you from Asgard, and bid you return to Alfheimr this very day." Arameth opened her mouth to retaliate, but she was just as quickly drug away again, yelling curses that should not have come out of a lady's mouth. Frigga turned towards her people. "From this day forth, let the Lady Amalthia, once scorned in her kingdom, be welcomed into Asgard as a Princess, and let it be known that our son, Prince Loki, has begun the courting rituals with her." Frigga extended her hand towards Amalthia, and the crowd parted, all eyes shifting towards her. Slightly flustered, and still overcome with emotion from her sister's appearance, Amalthia took as graceful of steps as she could to the steps of the thrones. Locking eyes with Loki, her heart calmed some, and she was able to accept the hand of Frigga with a grace and reverence that befitted her new title. Her rightful title. She curtsied to Frigga and Odin, who nodded in turn. The crowd cheered as Loki and Amalthia clasped hands and Frigga stepped back, letting the two lovers have their moment. Thor stepped forward and surrounded the two in a hug, raising his head to face the crowd.

"And now, we feast!" Thor's voice was just as loud as his father's and with a roar and applause from the crowd, the tables were brought out and the people shuffled to the seats and benches that they were familiar to, being as feasts were very common in Asgard. Amalthia was at a complete loss, never having such a grand and raucous crowd spread before her before. Loki sensed her unease, and gave her hand a squeeze.

"Love, fear not, our people are kind and even when they stink of wine and beer, they hold the same respect for their nobles as when they were mostly sober." Amalthia laughed, and didn't object again when Loki grabbed her around the waist and literally swept her off her feet and half carried her to their table.

~TO BE CONTINUED~

Oh sweet merciful lord beans, I'm so tired. After this, I still have a whole story to start, which I may or may not post on here, but at least it will get the hell out of my head. Review please, or I'll hunt you down and kiss you until you beg me to stop!

Love and Kisses,

~N.


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